


Smoke and Mirrors

by taintedidealist



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU 1930s, F/F, Minimal Depictions of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taintedidealist/pseuds/taintedidealist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1930s AU: (No <i>Real Magic</i>, No FTL) As a teenager Regina flees her mother’s dangerous control with a promise of protection from Mr. Gold and his traveling circus. Now an adult and the top-billed ‘Fire Queen’, Regina struggles to draw in a paying crowd during the height of the Dust Bowl. The new addition of Emma Swan as an animal keeper manages to shake up the circus family in more ways than one. In a time where dreams turn to dust and jazz gives way to blues, will Cora finally catch up to her daughter or has Regina never actually managed to escape?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Vanishing Act

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Smoke and Mirrors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866270) by [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/pseuds/mippippippi). 



> This story was inspired by the artwork found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1866270) Smoke and Mirrors Art by [Mippippippi's AO3 Profile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/pseuds/mippippippi) and tumblr at [Mippippippi Tumblr](http://mippippippi.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Shout outs of thanks to the SQBB moderators, my cheerleaders (you four know who you are), and my beta [k8eistrouble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/k8eistrouble/profile). 
> 
> I have not had the pleasure to watch Carnivále yet, but know that it is set at the same time and type of place. Any similarities will just make me happy to hear about and realize I really need to watch it finally.

_**Storybrooke, Maine - January, 8th 1918**_

“Come in dear, come in.” Mr. Gold’s arm swept across the expanse of his bungalow. His weight pressed down on his cane as he took small steps farther into the building. Sharp eyes carefully watched over as Regina entered. The black frock she chose to wear to the recent funeral still hung on her frame. He sighed in understanding to see the weight the young girl now bore on her shoulders. Tragedy always placed a sandbag on your soul, changing how you moved and how your eyes took in the world. He could barely see the visage of the bright and carefree girl who rode horses on his property at a breakneck pace but a month ago, instead he saw a widow of sorts mourning for the life she had penned in his classroom of the carnivále. 

The sixteen year old Regina now seemed to be an aged woman all from a freak accident at his circus. The venue in Storybrooke that took in the youth, taught them skills of daring, wonder, and awe before showing them the world. Sadly, he thought he was only able to show Daniel to an early grave. 

He pulled a chair he had crafted years ago, creaking joints and imperfect edges with a plush cushion made by his late wife. The cushion itself was divine, somehow they complimented one another. A pained smile crossed his face from the memory of another lost, hair dipped into his eyes as he looked at his own feet, “Tea, perhaps?” 

Regina calmly looked at the chair before sitting down, “Do you have any sugar?” 

A quick nod before he turned to the stove, pulling a battered kettle from the shelf, “Certainly.” He knew why she was here, the question was in her eyes already when he opened the door. He knew he would grant her wish if she merely asked it of him. 

Mr. Gold placed the pot onto the stove and heard the pleasing sizzle as a drop of water caught the heat. “How is the Mayor?”

“My father?” Regina asked with a tight voice, “Or my mother?” 

His shoulders slumped as they both knew even though her father held the title it was her mother who wielded the power over Storybrooke and over Mr. Gold. 

The soft hiss from the kettle filled the room before Regina looked at her gloves for a moment, “She’s remarkably well for someone who committed murder.” 

“Regina.” 

It was a warning. She could hear their entire argument in a moment. Daniel’s death was an accident, a horse reacted to snake, the horse startled the other animals and the young boy was trampled. 

“We both know the truth, but if it makes you feel better to abide by Lady MacBeth’s explanation of events, so be it.” 

The whistle of the kettle screeched and he cleared his throat, “Finished the reading of the play I can tell…” 

Regina tugged at the ends of her fingers as the black lace glove slowly gave way. She placed them onto the small buffet and glanced at the books along this comfortable nook. 

“Being well read is but just one path to freedom.” 

Mr. Gold’s ears perked up at her statement. It seemed to linger in the air as if she had a question to ask, but would leave it up to him to pluck it from the ether.

He poured the hot water over the tea leaves and nodded, “I cannot promise safe passage if she sends after you.” 

Regina smiled coldly, “You need not worry, you’ve taught me to vanish well.” 

His mouth held a grim line and his hand worked over the handle of his cane, the metal always cool to the touch, “Speak with Red, she’ll be able to get you on the train.”

“Dearie?” 

His eyes held hers for a moment as he approached with a teacup chittering on the saucer. He limped slowly across the floorboards before setting the drink before her. 

“She’ll follow.” 

A hand covered her own with some sort of a promise before she pulled it away and took a sip from the cup. The tea was weak, the leaves not having time to give the best flavor yet. Setting it down, she nodded before glancing out the window at the only home she had ever known. 

Storybrooke was a small town which grew more corrupt and controlling with each piece her mother seeped into. 

“I guess it’s a good thing your circus travels then. She’ll find the posters, but she’ll never find me again.” 

Mr. Gold sat beside her and nodded, “This is your wish then?” 

Regina looked down and saw the tea slowly creeping along the cup, infusing with the water. “It is my wish.”


	2. The Dust Dream

_**Oklahoma - April 14th, 1935**_

Regina scrubbed the back of her neck with a damp cloth. She had rolled her hair up before tying a handkerchief around it in hopes to keep it clean throughout the day. Gooseflesh popped up along her skin as it reacted to the moment of cool before the arid eighty degree weather blew back the respite from the heat. The idea of a bath was a luxurious memory of Chicago hotels, bubbling champagne, and packed houses waiting to see The Fire Queen. 

Now she was a horse act of sorts in Boise City, Oklahoma as the thought of a woman manipulating fire was more scandalous than admitting she hadn’t been to church in years. 

She longed for clothes of silks and lace to be pulled from the chests of the train instead of practical cotton dresses because of the threat of a storm.

At least this dress had a print on it. 

She was pretty sure Snow had mentioned it was from a flour sack. Who knew Regina would ever be reflecting on a flour sack being the height of fashion in her day to day.

“Can you believe it?” 

She turned toward the overly optimistic sounding voice and was prepared to send a withering look at David, but found a smile overtaking her as Rocinante was following him without a lead. 

The tall man grinned back at her as he tromped forward, his slacks ballooned around him showing that the shepherd was still bartering with townsfolk for his clothes instead of ever buying his own. Perhaps Snow could make him clothes from potato sacks or other re-used food-stuffs. Soon, she thought they would be wearing pieces of the old canvas tent Belle continuously sewed together on days off. 

“Clear skies _and_ this beautiful beast has finally decided to stop chasing windmills and actually be worth the money we’ve put into his mouth.” David nodded toward the horse, crossing his arms over his chest, the threadbare button-up work shirt struggling to stay together for one more show.

The horse let out a huff of air and shook his head back and forth the mane hitting David in the face. A dirt print was etched across his face now as he nodded, “Is he laughing at me?” 

A laugh bubbled out of Regina as she moved the cloth to her arms trying to wipe the dirt of Oklahoma off herself. 

“Well, I mean you’re laughing at me now.” 

“Are we having a go at Charming?” Killian edged out from the tent and shielded his eyes. A lopsided grin sprung forth as he walked a small knife along his fingers. The ever-present stubble spread along his cheeks belying an Irishman’s bravado which the dagger thrower hung his entire act on. “Regina love, you have to let me know. Putting David in his place is my favorite past-time.” 

_Well_ , Regina bit the inside of her cheek in thought, _and a plunging neckline to rival her own costumes._

The two men winked at one another as the inexplicably bare-chested Killian flung an arm around David and punched him in the ribs repeatedly.

Regina considered this for a moment and sighed, “I do hope instead that you’ve been able to rustle up some actual patrons for the day so we could actually put on a show.” 

Now a headlock from David immobilized Killian to the most dreaded assault as he messed up what she had heard declared, _‘A most perfected head of pomade and panache.’_ Belle must have lent him a book to garner that slew of words.

Regina motioned to the crisp blue sky, “I for one, would like to perform today instead of sit in a tent watching Snow make moon eyes at Charming here.” 

David placed a hand on his heart as his face scrunched up in mock pain, “You’re ripping my heart out, Regina. I thought we were friends.” 

“Oh no, love,” Killian patted his friend’s shoulder in the universal sign of surrender. He was released and stumbled forward before pulling a broken piece of mirror from his back pocket to fuss with his hair, “I’m the Charming one.” 

Rocinante whinnied. 

“I am!” Killian turned to the horse with his rebuttal as it nipped at his other pant pocket. His velvety snout working intently on the fabric.

Regina smiled, “He knows you have something in there.” 

The horse continued to mouth the pocket, teeth knocking together before stepping back and stopping his foot at Killian. 

“One stomp must mean sugar cube.” Regina offered with a straight face.

David nodded, “You speak horse now?” 

“I’m just as fluent in horse as Snow is with the birds.” 

She turned her attention back to Killian as she held out the sugar cubes to Rocinante who greedily gobbled them up, “Do we have a crowd coming?” 

Killian winked at her, “Would I let you down?” 

Arching her eyebrow and crossing her arms across her chest Regina asked again, “Do we have a crowd?” 

“That was once, one time in Texas!” He felt the horse push him forward roughly and stumbled, “Most of the folks are going to church first for a rain service. I sent Belle and Mr. Gold into help spread word and--” 

“Let everyone know that the Once Upon a Time circus, while Honorably Conducted and Truthfully Advertised will cure your illness?” Regina offered. 

Charming stepped forward grabbing at invisible suspenders, “Bring the rain clouds!” 

“Forget your troubles!” Regina said. 

“And all for the low price of…” Charming’s hand dropped in front of himself in question. 

Killian smiled, “All true, all true, and all for the low price of a piece of clothing, a bit of grain, a small coin from your purse, or---” 

“Rain, rain, rain.” 

The trio turned toward the new voice and saw Snow bow, her faded blue gingham dress flounced out around her before sticking back to her legs as she finished Killian’s tried and true line that had drummed up payment in kind during the travels in the dust storms. 

Her long hair waved in the wind as she approached, light on the balls of her feet as she lightly tip-toed toward them. It always seemed that she had a secret to tell, a coy nature about her either a story about the birds or a new idea for the clowns.

“Did the people in Cimarron County bite?” Snow asked. 

The wicked grin spread over his face, “The Rubes gobbled it up, show is on at 2 o’clock my lovelies.” 

* * * 

Regina sat down for a moment, breathing deeply to bring herself down from the exhilaration from performing her act. It was not the same as twirling flames while standing on a steed’s back, but it would suffice today. 

_The red flapper dress she wore had been altered and cut to allow her to ride Rocinante this afternoon. She had first brought it to Snow in Dodge City, Kansas. She had received it one afternoon twirling a flaming baton on the town square. A modest woman brought the dress to her saying that the cut would flatter Regina more, and she had no use for it any longer. The woman wiggled her ring finger toward Regina, the tasteful gold band completing the story for her. She had swallowed tightly, smiled in what she hoped was a warm manner and took it back to the train._

_Snow had shook her head and pointed toward Belle, her nose stuck in a magazine, flipping the pages back and forth noticing Regina before her and raising her eyes. “Do you think you can take this ruby red gown into something sleek?”_

_Belle nodded as she had pointed to the pages of the dancers from the halls of Kansas City, Chicago, and New York._

_“That will do, indeed.” Regina had grinned before taking her seat alongside Red as the train’s wheels groaned and inched forward slowly taking them farther south._

Shaking her head Regina sighed deeply as Belle’s needle and thread worked quickly on Killians heavy leather duster. He twirled the flat hand knives around his fingers mindlessly as the small circus band oompah-ed through a slightly off tempo rendition of Entrance of the Gladiators. It seemed that Grumpy’s tuba was not keeping up with Mr. Gold’s baton, as usual. 

She sighed, picking at the red jeweled slippers on her feet. “Three more weeks until we’re done with the tumbleweeds and dirt mixing into our sawdust and sequins.” 

Killian’s eyes caught hers, “Not so sure about that my love, I might take one of those weedy things with me. I’ve grown so fond of them in our time here. E’vn named one Charming.” 

“Good to go!” Belle slapped his rear-end and he clucked his tongue as he moved toward the ring. 

“Cheeky, you are.” 

Snow exited the tent, her feathered frock sticking to her as usual and the birds flapping about, with the parrot squawking above them all. “Something’s wrong.” 

“With your outfit?” Regina slowly looked up and down and nodded, “I think you’re right.” 

Her long curls started to fall out of her up-do as Snow motioned to her doves, “No, with the birds. Toward the end of the act they started chattering, they usually only do that when--” 

“A storm is coming.” 

A cold breeze shot through the tent and the canvas flaps fluttered, Regina looked back into the tent and watched as Killian skillfully threw knives at the targets around Charming’s body. 

“We need to get the animals back into the boxcars and warn the boys.” Regina pointedly looked at Belle as Snow ran with her to the animal pens. 

The animals were scattered along the acreage they had plotted out. Her eyes fluttered shut in thanks as Regina saw Charming had already secured Monarch the lion in his train car and the tiger was already pacing her cage too, but their curtains needed to be drawn. 

“You get the chimps and I’ll get the horses rounded up. Hopefully David can finish with Monarch and the Queen.” 

As Regina ran to the horse tent one of her slippers fell off, she winced, her heel connecting with a hard piece of clay. She could feel the blood already starting to trickle, but pushed past the pain to get to the small canvas tent. Pulling back the entrance panel the horses were already pacing in circles.

“Whoa, whoa girl,” Regina stepped in front of the gray filly who seemed to immediately calm with her presence. She was able to gather the leads of the two other remaining horses and get them into the train car, she saw Ruby leading a chain of the chimps with Snow holding the youngest around her neck. 

As she opened the flap once more, Rocinante continued to circle, his ears flicked back and forth punctuating his raised anxiety with a high-pitched neigh. He was going to bolt, and if he ran into the main tent he could injure those in the grandstand. 

For a moment it was quiet, the wind died down, but then the band started playing again and she felt a chill run over her body as a brass fanfare came from the main tent, followed by the march every performer hoped to never hear again. “No,” Regina whispered to herself. She looked toward the main tent and then back to the steed, his hooves stamping at the ground. 

The band continued to play and when the fluters spun out of control to _The Stars and Stripes Forever_ she was hopeful Belle had cued Mr. Gold for all of the family to start preparing for a storm. If not, something had happened to David or Killian. 

“Stay here boy, just hold on for me one moment.” Regina turned and ran toward the main tent and saw as Grumpy and Red shared Killian’s weight using his duster as a stretcher. 

“What happened?” she asked before Snow caught Regina in her arms. 

Wincing, with blood spattered over his face Killian tried to smile reassuringly, “Just a little knick all, Belle will get me stitched up all new and better than ever.”

The cold wind ripped through the tents and Regina turned back toward the clearing from the cars now scattering back to the road. A huge black cloud was approaching fast on the horizon barreling toward them. 

Bursting forth from the tent Mr. Gold decked out in his ringmaster’s jacket pointed his cane at the trains, “All of the valuables onto the train, hunker down where you can,” his eyes looked at the rolling beast coming toward them, “this is going to be a big one.” 

“David!” Regina yelled with increased panic, “Rocinante.”

Snow released her as David bolted past her as they both made way for the horses tent one last time. 

“Why didn’t you get him to safety?” 

Regina saw the blood spattered all over his crisp white costume, “ David,” her hand reached for him as they neared the tent, “how bad is Killian?” 

He ignored her as the beginnings of the dark cloud spit dust onto their faces, and pulling the flap back once more, Regina’s shoulders dropped. The horse was gone. She’d heard stories before of how livestock was lost during the storms, but they’d been lucky so far. 

“We have to find him.” 

David reached for her as she moved to leave the tent dumbfounded and walking towards the swirling black cloud. “No. I’ll do it.” 

She shook her head, “We’ll both do it.” Threading her fingers through his own they inched closer to the cloud. 

If she hadn’t been holding his hand Regina knew that she would not even know David was with her. She tried to yell to him, but the dust worked its way down into her lungs causing her to cough into her elbow. The dirt cut into her legs and she could feel it working through the injury on her foot.

David pulled on her arm and yelled into her ear that they needed to turn around, but Regina had lost her sense of direction hoping he could find his way back through this blinding cloud. 

Luckily, David was a good shephard and even better at finding things. 

It took two hours for the storm to rage through the town of Boise City, cutting down the tents and knocking the poles over. The winds were still kicking up dirt and Regina sat on the back of a truck staring at the fields and wishing for a miracle. 

She rubbed at her eyes when a small figure walked closer from the barren pasture and he was leading a horse. He breath caught when she recognized the loping gait. The man was covered in a long-sleeve shirt and a handkerchief around his face with goggles like the airman from the war used to wear and a wide-brimmed hat completed the dusty ensemble. Without thinking Regina hopped off the truck bed and hobbled toward the unknown savior of her act. She threw herself at the lithe man and wrapped her arms around him, “Thank you so much.” 

Regina pulled back and tilted her head, her grip loosening on them, “You’re a woman?” 

The stranger tugged down on the handkerchief, put the hat under and arm, and tugged down on the goggles so they rested along her chest. She tossed her head back and forth and dust popped out of her hair revealing long hair that was possibly brown or blonde. 

“As are you, Miss?” 

Regina stepped back fully and took in her face, it was streaked with dust and tracks from tears ran along her cheeks. She jutted out a hand, “Mills. I’m Regina Mills.” 

“Do you often sit out dust storms in your finery?” 

She glanced down at her costume, rips in it that Belle would once again have to fix, a patched up foot and realized she must be a interesting site for this woman. “Well, no, I--” 

Regina was cut off, “Oh, no, I liked it.” 

Her hands crossed over her stomach, but Rocinante let out a puff of air and shook his head before nosing at Regina. 

The woman continued, “I felt like it was one of those mirage things from the desert. I mean we’re basically in the new desert right? We just keep pretending it’s something else.” 

Regina smiled tightly, “I guess you’re right Miss--” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” A gloved hand shot toward her, “Emma Swan. I think I found your horse.” 

Putting her own hand out Regina nearly chuckled when Emma nose crinkled up in thought before pulling the dirty glove off before shaking her hand. Her grip was tight Regina noticed, “And how do you know that?” 

Emma glanced over at the horse as she continued to move Regina’s hand up and down. “Oh, well he walked me back here, very insistent too, knocked me over twice when I tried to go the other way.” 

“You were going to steal my horse?” 

She felt her hand drop as Emma pulled off the other glove stuffing them into a back pant pocket, “Well, you see…” she paused before looking directly at Regina, “Actually, yeah, that’s exactly what I was planning on doing.” 

“And what stopped you?” She asked trying to keep the amusement off her face. 

Emma scratched at her nose making lines in the dirt, “Well the here to aforementioned horse and then I hoped there would be some reward.” 

“So, not chivalry?” 

Emma shook her head quickly with more puffs of dust popping out, “Oh no Miss, I have zero chivalry.” 

Regina nodded at her as David piped up over her corner, “Rocinante! Were you out chasing windmills again?” 

“David. This is Emma, she was wondering if we had a reward for allowing Rocinante to bring her along with him.” 

He rubbed at his chin in thought and nodded, “Yeah, I got a reward about as good as any these days. It’s called a job.” 

“A job?” Emma’s voice cracked. Her throat bobbed up and down before jutting her hand out again, “I will take that reward.” 

Regina smiled again, “Good, David if you could see her to Mr. Gold I’m going to change out of my finery now.” 

The new woman handed Regina the horses’ lead as she passed by her. “Oh, and that’s a shame by the way, to change out of the finery. It’s not often a mirage is real.” 

Rolling her eyes at Emma, Regina leaned into the horses neck, “What made you think we needed another mouth to feed?” 

A whinny was her only answer and Regina shook her head slowly as it sounded very much like Rocinante just laughed at her.


	3. The Fire Bug

_**Waiting for The Antelope to Kansas City, Missouri - May 6th, 1935** _

"What could you possibly mean by that?" Emma asked. 

Regina sighed, “I mean exactly what you know I meant when I said it.” 

“I smell?” 

“You smell.” 

“Well?” 

“No, not well, you smell of the animals.” Regina continued flatly, “You reek, you smell like you’re sleeping in the animal car instead of the cast car.” 

Emma kicked at the ground out and looked down the tracks, “I had.” 

“Why are you sleeping with the animals?” Regina asked flatly.  
“Killian said I have to pay him a dollar for the cast car and I barely make that in a week.” Emma said. 

Regina turned and set down her hat box, “Killian is lying on our train if you’re a grunt or if you are in an act you can ride in the cast car.” 

“That lying sack of-” Regina placed her gloved finger on Emma’s mouth effectively shushing her. 

“Remember manners?” Regina asked, “And how you need to have them since we’re on an actual rail line and not with our train?” 

She motioned towards the platform and how the cast were all dressed to the nines to get on a train. Emma looked down at her own navy slacks, the creases pressed crisply with the help of Belle synched around her waist with a wide built-in belt. She tugged down on the short sleeves on her red and white striped shirt. Emma was not used to revealing skin at all in case a dust storm was around the next bend in the road. She then fiddled for a moment with the red buttons on the shirt before playing withe the collar. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t just go with Mr. Gold.” 

“Because Emma,” Regina stepped forward her grey dress moved like liquid over her body and Emma unconsciously swallowed. Regina’s arms popped out from under the cape wrapped around her shoulders and secured elegantly by a jeweled brooch. A small black hat pinned to her upswept hair gave her an air of grace which Emma felt for a moment that she was standing next to a glamorous movie star.

Regina’s brown eyes were so assured as she looked at Emma’s nervous mannerisms brought on by such detailed attention, “Emma?” she called quietly. 

“Yeah?” Emma shook her head and the long ponytail flipped over her shoulder, finally clean of the dirt and grime of the day to day of the dust, Regina noticed that she did have blonde hair. 

Regina smoothed out the collar of Emma’s shirt, “When Mr. Gold gives us a vacation.” Her hands ran along the seams of the shirt across her shoulders and down Emma’s arms before grasping both of Emma’s calloused hands in her own, “We take the vacation, especially when he buys us tickets.” 

“Hey guys,” David popped in his hair parted perfectly on the side as he bounced on the toes of his shoes, “Are you also planning on stopping in Chicago before we go back to Storybrooke?” 

Emma’s eyes snapped down to her hands as she felt Regina tense at the mention of Storybrooke. She rubbed her thumbs along the tops of Regina’s hands before she broke the connection with a smile. 

“Is that where you guys are from?” 

She kept her gaze primarily on Regina as Snow chimed in, “Oh, no I’m from Kansas and David is from Oklahoma.” 

Regina smiled stiffly, “I’m from Storybrooke as is Mr. Gold and various members of the troupe.” 

“Oh.” Emma nodded as she asked Regina, “Are you excited to get home?” 

“It’s not my home anymore Emma, just where I came from.” 

She could almost see the question in the tilt of Regina’s head so she answered it, “Chicago by way of Boston. I was bounced around the orphanages for a bit when I was little. So I don’t know exactly where home is I guess.” A smiled forced its way onto Emma’s face to try to alleviate what always came next. 

It didn’t work.

“Orphanage?” Snow made soft whining noise, “it must have been so sad to be alone in the world.” 

Emma’s lips smacked before Regina jumped in, “Or how very refreshing to not ever be tied to a place, home is where you make it.”

A goofy grin spread across David’s face as he clapped Emma roughly on the back, “And you have one with us, we’re your oasis.” 

“Well,” Emma rolled her eyes up in thought, “technically Regina is my oasis.” 

Regina laughed warmly, “I thought I was the mirage Emma?” 

The train whistle blew as The Antelope pulled into the station, “Yeah, but you turned out to be real. When you basically threw yourself at me like I was your knight or something.” 

Shaking her head Regina leaned to the side to pick up her hat box, “I was grateful to see my horse.” 

“That’s it!” David snapped his fingers, “Knight of Knives. Emma, you can take up the knives since Killian...” 

“Since Killian only has one hand to work with now?” He smirked as he joined them in a tailored three-piece suit and bowler hat. 

Emma shook her head, “Is this what you spend all the cast fees on?” 

Leaning back and sighing, Killian slapped his knee in defeat, “You told her?” 

Regina shook her head, “A whole dollar? I would have let it ride for a dime or two, but a week’s pay?” 

The conductor bellowed for passengers to enter the passenger cars as they all moved toward the train Emma grabbed Regina’s hand and tugged her back, “Do I really smell awful?” 

Regina winked, “No, you just smell like hay and sugar cubes.” 

“Does anyone tell the truth here?” Emma asked to the sky. 

“I think you do Miss Swan.” Regina answered as she gathered her skirt and marched up the steps. 

* * * 

Emma sat down beside Regina who was peering out the window at the passing fields, some bastions of dirt, while others held some crops. 

“So, what was that about Storybrooke earlier?” 

Regina looked back at Emma and shook her head, “Emma, no. This is not where I spill my life story to someone I’ve known for a couple weeks.” 

“So, instead of talking you’re going to look longingly out of a window for,” she flicked her wrist and looked at her watch, “a long time. I’m sure this will be many hours long.” 

“Oh,” Regina’s palm raised to her forehead, “Oh my you’re so right Emma.” 

Emma rolled her shoulders back in triumph as her tongue wet her bottom lip, “See I knew you’d--” 

“I almost forgot to start reading my new book.” 

And then Regina Mills cracked open a novel and ignored Emma Swan from Oklahoma City until the train pulled into Union Station in Kansas City, Missouri. 

Emma was correct, it was many hours, but she now knew the life story of Grumpy and realized that his nickname was perfect. 

* * * 

The troupe broke up in Kansas City some visiting family, others perusing the marble to see if they could find the ricochet from the bullets, while Regina gathered her suitcase from steerage and headed toward a taxi for a luxury she barely remembered. 

A bath. 

“Hey, wait up, Regina!” 

Turning on her heel Regina put up a hand, “No. Just no, I’m not your tag-a-long ride.” 

Emma stopped and resituated the duffel bag on her shoulder as she looked around to see if any the other circus folk were in the lobby. Her mouth dropped open for a while and then snapped shut, “I was just going to ask you if you were going to The President.” 

“You got a room at The President?” Regina asked impressed.

Emma nodded, “Yeah, I mean if you’re going somewhere nicer. I get it, but I know a guy who owes me so I got a room and I hear they have some mean cocktails.” 

Regina squinted, “You could have afforded Killian’s con, couldn’t you Emma.” 

A quick shrug Emma stepped forward to the taxi to open door for her, “Nah, you don’t get to know my life story right now. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks, people might talk.” 

* * * 

_**Storybrooke, Maine - May 9th - 1935** _

Cora Mills felt her hand flex as she hummed to the voice on the line, “Thank you very much. It’s the best lead we’ve had in a while.” 

She hung the phone up and leveled her gaze on the reporter. He twitched slightly before adjusting his glasses and patting at his bow tie.The pen he held tapped lightly along his note pad, “A lead Madam Mayor? That sounds promising.”  
Her lips pressed together for a moment and she ran her hand across her desk, as if the immaculate hawthorne, had a speck or imperfection present on it. 

“Yes, Sidney it is promising. It seems that Regina is back in the land of the living, barely.” 

He marveled how she seemed to be able to dismiss anyone’s actions with a single word. He shifted in his chair as it groaned with his movements, “May I ask where the lead will be taking me?” 

“Kansas City, Missouri. A cow town.” 

Sidney’s head bobbed back and forth, his eyes squinting, “Well actually Ma’am. If you were not aware the Federal Bureau recently was in a shootout with Pretty Boy Floyd.”

“Excuse me,” Cora smile chilled him, “A cow town with crooks. You do know what that means, right Sidney?” 

He nodded and straightened his glasses again before looking back at the mayor, “It means that information is always available, for a price.” 

“They’re staying at The President, Tom will get you a room.” 

“Tom?” he asked, “Do, you mean Boss Tom, Mayor Mills?” 

She chuckled to herself as she rose from her chair and headed toward the hearth, “Oh, do you know Tom Pendergast, Sidney?” She threw a look over her shoulder, “Do tell him hello.” 

* * *  
 _ **The President Hotel - Kansas City, Missouri - May 11th**_

Regina lounged on the bed and reveled in terry cotton robe she had spent most of her day in while looking out on the city and sipping on champagne. She wondered for a moment what connections Emma had to be able to hold a room in one of the newest hotels for nearly a week, but Emma had stopped asking pointed questions to her so she had to give her the same favor. 

A brisk knock came from the door and Regina looked for the time, seeing she still had an hour before cocktails with the troupe in The Drum Room. Setting the glass flute on the counter, Regina tightened the robe before opening the door to a bell man. 

“Hello.” Regina greeted him warmly. 

“Miss, I have a note for you marked urgent.” He passed the card to her and bowed quickly, “Thank you ma’am.” 

Regina closed the door and shook her head unsure of who would know of her whereabouts. 

_Regina,_

_So, you’re in Kansas City? Any thought of swinging by Chicago for a spell? I always have dance reserved for you and a song. It’s all upright and legit now days thanks to repeal._

_I gots my eyes on you in KC, so feel safe doll._

_Your Mad Hatter,  
Jefferson_

Regina threw the card at the counter and cursed loudly, of course she knew how Emma got the room. Chicago by way of Boston and then she walked out of a dust storm like a dream. 

The Mad Hatter of the South Side of Chicago had sent her. Emma Swan was a wiseguy, or she thought, a wisegal. 

* * *

“I don’t get it.” Emma leaned into Killian’s side. “It was hunky-dorey wonderful and then she went all--” she mimicked locking her mouth and throwing away the key. 

Killian grinned widely at her before taking a sip of his whiskey, “Are you keen on her?” 

“Keen?” Emma asked as she felt the blush crawl up her neck. 

He shrugged, “I get it. All of us fall a little in love with her, especially when she brings the fire act out.” He tilted his chair back until it hit the brick wall of the pub and threw his arms out. His left hand how varied between a metal hook and a leather gloved hand. Emma was thankful that he chose the hand this evening. 

Emma scanned the sparse crowd, “Why is she doing this here?” 

“Hmm?” Killian hummed in question, “we tend to try out some of our tricks and ideas on holiday as not to gather the ire of Mr. Gold. He tends to get upset when it looks like we’ll lose a hand.” He chuckled to his own poor joke before taking another drink and smacking his lips together. 

“Now!” His chair slammed back down on the wooden floor, “Ask me what you’ve been dying to ask her. I’m an open book.” 

“You mean a vagrant and a liar.” 

“I never said if it was fiction or not did I?” Killian smiled as his head knocked against the brick. 

Emma sipped from her cocktail and bit, “What’s with Storybrooke?” 

Killian nodded, “Okay stealer of my act, I will tell you. It’s her mum. She blames her for the death of her fiancé.” 

“Did her mother kill the fiancé?” Emma leaned forward. 

Killian pointed his thumb at her, “See here’s the rub, it was an accident or so called. Supposedly a snake slithered along, spooked a horse, who spooked a horse, who spooked so forth and Daniel--” he motioned a slash along his neck. 

“Was decapitated?”

“No love, just trampled in a horrific death type of way.” Killian’s head wobbled back and forth, “which then there is the fire that nearly wiped us out when we first left the bloody place, and we is...” He collected himself for a moment and then a loud pop from his lips as he restarted, “We being me, myself, and I is as certain we will die from some silly dark curse her and the old man swear to be true.” 

“Do you think the curse is really her mom?” 

His smile slowly emerged as he sipped on the glass again, “Makes for a good story doesn’t it? I tend to believe in curses and superstitions because I’m of the carnivále,” he bowed his head before looking back at her and winking, “and we believe in the unbelievable.” 

“But why when there is no proof?” Emma tugged on her waistcoat and smoothed down her slacks. 

Killian waved his hand in front of his face. Fingers wiggling along the way, “It’s the only magic we have in this land. Illusion can be explained away by a magician, but there are things in this world we have no rational way of understanding.” 

She snorted and huffed out a breath, “Yeah, like what?” 

“Like her I imagine,” he pointed to the stage as Regina stepped out with flaming batons. 

Emma thought for a moment, “The fire, the one you mentioned. Do you think it was Regina?”

“One would logically think so yeah,” his eyes never left the stage as Regina blew on the end of a wand and the flames flew into the audience to their uproaring applause, “but we’re her home. The little fire bug that took out our tents, that fire started in Mr. Gold’s quarters.” 

He looked back at Emma, “The very man who snatched away a controlling mother’s daughter to the safety of the traveling circus.” 

Laughter bubbled out of him as Regina threw the flames in the air, “imagine fireballs and knives being a safe haven.” He glanced at his left arm and his face sobered, “but it was, Love.” 

“It was safe?” She questioned. 

The glass met his lips one more time, “We’re going back to Storybrooke.”


	4. The Encore

_**The Ranger to Chicago, Illinois - June 1st, 1935** _

Emma tucked the telegraph into her pants pocket as she moved back to her seat beside David. He smiled warmly and stood up allowing her to slide in by the window.

“Beverage car?”

She shrugged, “It was overpriced or Kansas City was exceptionally under priced.”

Her eyes looked to the other side of the car and caught Regina curled against the metal frame of the passenger car, glasses perched on her nose as she read yet another book.

“Do you think that one is entitled ‘7 Ways to Ignore Emma Swan’?”

He nodded, “You know I do remember reading a review of that title in the morning paper before we left, and it is supposed to be a page turner.” His laughter turned into a sucked in breath of pain most likely from the elbow to his ribcage.

“You could, you know, try to talk to her.” David suggested.

Emma looked at the seat across from her which had been unoccupied for the entirety of the train ride and nodded, “If I catch on fire please douse me with water.”

He scooted out from his seat and dipped grandly in a bow, “Of course my liege.”

She inched closer along the train car before the withering glare was placed on her from over the frames of Regina’s glasses, “The answer is no.”

“Oh, how relieving,” Emma flopped into the seat across from her.

Regina set the book down softly on her skirt, “Did you somehow not hear my clear words to you Miss Swan?”

“I definitely heard you say the answer is no, to my question of ‘Will you refuse me for a third time?’” She wrinkled her nose up and tossed a hand dismissively, “Big weight off my shoulders.”

She watched the stiff posture of the other woman as she boxed out her shoulders and raised her chest in what some would see as a frightening opponent, but Emma saw a sparring partner and she was tired of taking all the hits.

“Why did you leave me in Kansas City.” Emma bluntly asked, “I came back from visiting a friend and you were gone from the hotel room. No note, no message, and no robe.” Emma pointed at her, “They charged me for the robe. You owe me about twenty drinks for that one.”

Regina pulled her glasses off and folded them with care before setting them on her lap. “Fine, but you owe me an explanation first.”

“Sometimes fancy hotels charge guests when they take things that are supposed to stay part of the hotel.”

“Emma,” Regina stopped her, “the truth. Who are you and why have you been following me?”

Emma could feel the telegraph burning in her pocket. She only needed to pull it out from her pants and hand it to her and the mystery would be over. She wouldn’t have said anything, but it was too dangerous at this point. She had verified the information Killian had spilled at the pub in Kansas City with a handful of the cast and crew.

She wanted to trust Regina.

“I want you to trust me.” Emma said, “I can’t tell you more than you know. Your horse found me and I found you.”

Regina laughed warmly and it set the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck on edge, “I can’t trust you because there are two options. You work for my mother or your work for The Hatter.”

“There is a third option Regina.”

Her eyes searched Emma’s face and she saw a crack in the foundation, “You smell like him. You smell like hay and sugar cubes. You say the right thing, you smile when the horses nip at your shirt. You’re all my favorite things in one person. I’m not the mirage Emma, you are.”

“I’m here. I’m real.” She reached for Regina’s hand and her heart leapt when she let her hold it

The tears were barely contained and Regina brushed at her eyes with her free hand. “I don’t tell stories about my past because people have always used them to chip away a piece of me for themselves.”

Emma swallowed past her doubt and pushed forward, “I don’t want a piece of you for a souvenir Regina. I want it all.”

“Then why will you not tell me what the third option is Emma?”

Emma’s head dipped down in defeat before catching those glimmering eyes again, “I can’t. Not yet, but Regina I will. There will be a time when I can soon.”

She tugged her hand away and looked out the window as Chicago started to emerge around them, “They always said the dust storms ripped away hope. I didn’t believe it until right now.”

“Regina.”

“Go, I’ll be at The White Rabbit tonight. You should bring your knives. The Hatter does always love a good show.”

* * *  
 _ **The White Rabbit, Chicago - June 1st, 1935**_

_Jefferson flipped the card back and forth on the felt of the poker table and grinned at the old man as he leaned onto his cane. “You sure we can’t come to an agreement about distribution again Mr. Gold?”_

_“No, I am back to truth and honor on our train,” he paused, inching forward, “and under our tent.”_

_He spun his fedora around before letting it settle on his head, “I feel that in these times a little extra bit for those in need would help raise profits.”_

_Mr. Gold squinted at him for a moment, “You wear your hat inside? I thought this place was cultured Jefferson or do you prefer The Mad Hatter still?”_

_A hand came up to wipe across the brim, “Oh, come now old man, you know half of the Chicago elite that come here miss the intrigue of when a drink could get you a night in jail and and tale for the upper crust. I have to keep the sense of air alive.”_

_“I figured getting through Valentine’s would have been enough for you to put the hat up for good.”_

_Jefferson pushed back from the table and sighed, “Are we going to dance around what you want to know for another round or so?” He took a sip from the Old Fashioned before him before letting out a refreshed sigh, “Or do you just want me to tell you that I knew Swan when she was working with us.”_

_“I don’t dance so well after the War so how about more about Swan.”_

_* * *_

_Regina had missed dressing behind a mirror and knowing the gig was going to pay up front as the make-up turned her into the Queen._

_She decided to go for a deep blue gown that she knew would make the fire pop. The back dipped down to show the skin that the ladies and gentlemen hoped to find in the reputable establishment of ill-repute._

_The door creaked open with the soft rap of knuckles on the door and Regina called out as she powered her face._

_“I brought them, if you want to try out the bit with the apple after the fire-breathing.” Emma stated dully._

_Regina had watched her exit The Ranger and slink off, she assumed, to find out which of her friends were still alive. She looked into the mirror and saw something else in her demeanor, a sadness that had put sandbags onto her shoulders. Emma was carrying a weight._

_“Are you okay?” she asked._

_Emma nodded, her thumbs looping into her belt buckles, “Stellar.”_

_She was lying and it was the first time Regina was perfectly certain of it._

_“Emma, you can tell me.”_

_She shook her head as she worked her hair into a simple braid, “No, you don’t get this piece of me Regina.”_

_Rolling her eyes Regina checked herself once more in the mirror, “Oh, throwing my words back at me I see?”_

_“Right now,” Emma stated calmly, “soon I’ll be throwing knives. I’m still not sure which one will be more satisfying.”_


	5. The High Wire Act

_**On Route to Bangor, Maine - June 8th, 1935** _

Mr. Gold slid into the seat beside Emma with a wide grin spread across his face and she startled. "I thought you were meeting us in Storybrooke." 

“Oh, I was dearie, but I had an idea for an act after seeing your show at The White Rabbit last night with Regina.” 

He flipped open the briefcase and pulled out a file folder with dark red stains over it. He caught her concerned look, “Oh, no it’s just a bit of jam from my toast this morning.” The file folder flipped open and she saw lines for barker calls she could imagine bursting forth from Killian as he ushered in the crowd. 

She glanced around the car before looking back at the cocktail napkins telling a story of steel and fire dancing near death, but defying it. “Are you sure she’ll go for this?” 

“Of course she will,” he stated calmly, “she owes me.” 

Emma brow wrinkled in thought, “for what?” she asked. 

An impish smirk popped across his face making him seem younger instantly, “Why for granting her wish.” 

She shook her head not understanding his doublespeak, “But we’re on a train to Storybrooke the one place she wants to be the least.” 

“Ah,ah, dear,” his finger ticked back and forth, “she wants freedom. This here, will grant it.” 

Emma looked again at the napkins and saw his plan, “I’m in. I’m in if she’s in.” 

He clapped the folder shut and a giggle emitted from him before he coughed, “Splendid. I’ll get her from the food trolley. We have one hour before the transfer.” 

* * * 

_**Storybrooke, Maine - June 9th 1935** _

The circus train had been stored at Bangor with Red and Belle taking custody while Mr. Gold made his field trip to Chicago. After going over the theory of the act and the pantomimed motions while on the train Emma was fairly confident that they might prevail with the illusion if she had mastered enough of the skill from Killian’s tutoring. She found him pouting with Snow’s parrot. It took all of her human decency to refrain from a pirate joke, but he must have heard it all the way across the train car. 

“Get on with it or buzz off.” 

The parrot called back helpfully, “Buzz off!”

“Okay, but we’re pulling into the station and it looks like there is a platform welcome.” Emma answered, still wasn’t quite sure if it was to Killian or to the bird. 

He hopped to his feet as the bird flew to the air before resting on a chair, “this could be interesting if the Mayor is there.” 

“She is,” stated a worried voice as Snow wrung her hands, “do you think they’ll run us out of town with tar and feathers. I don’t know if the birds could handle it.” 

“I highly doubt it.” Charming answered. 

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Killian echoed. 

The train came to an abrupt halt throwing them all forward for a moment before Regina entered the car, “Let’s face the music everyone.” 

As they stepped off the train onto the platform Cora stepped forward with a grin cut across her face. She opened her arms and pulled Regina into a hug. The cast looked at one another in fear as if they talked some spell would be broken. 

“Oh, Regina,” Cora held her face in her hands, “I’m so happy you’re home.” 

Regina smiled tightly, “As am I mother.” 

The camera flash caught them off guard as Sidney Glass smiled and belted out “Storybrooke Mirror. So excited to have you back in the city limits, we have so missed your cheer and excitement in the years gone by.” 

Killian seemed off put that someone could bellow louder than he so he took the instance to jump up on the platform bench and start his part now. 

“Citizens and friends of Storybrooke in but two days you will witness feats you’ve never set your eyes on before. A lion tamer made of a shepherd boy from Oklahoma stunning you with tricks that make the savage beasts into mere kittens on command.” 

David stepped forward and bowed.   
“A blessed schoolmarm who they say can speak with birds who know your secrets and tell her all.” 

Snow waggled her finger at the crowd as they chuckled nervously. 

“The Knight of Knives who throws with piercing accuracy into targets smaller than a gnat and often the apple on the top of a wee one’s head. Will it be you child?” 

A young boy clutched at the pants of his father and hid from the hook leveraged at him. 

Emma stepped forward and waved at the crowd as a young tow-headed girl screeched out, “She’s a lady mama!” 

Grinning wide Killian pointed at the girl with his finger and waved back at Emma, “Aye, my lass and maybe that wee child is you.” 

“Not to forget the Fire Queen, known to you as Regina, since then she’s mastered the air of the flame. She bends it to her will, unable to be burned by one flame or more, she will bring you each to your feet.” 

Regina stepped back into the line of the performers and curtsied as she bowed her head. 

“But wait, the Ring Master himself has one more thing to share.” 

Mr. Gold hopped onto the bench, “Captain Hook is right Storybrooke, in two days a daring feat of fire and steel will be set before you as the Knight and the Queen attempt a trick so dangerous.” 

Emma could see it in the eyes of the town, they were hooked, leaning forward with his every word. 

“So unbelievable that you have to see it to believe it.” 

She heard the whisper in her ear from Regina, “Honorably conducted and truthfully advertised, right?” 

Emma chuckled as the band was cued and the pounding bass drum set the crowd into hysterical clapping. 

***  
 _ **Storybrooke, Maine - June 10th 1935**_

Sidney’s pencil flew across the sketchpad as the parade wound through the town. He detailed the costumes that glittered on Regina, the powder-puff fluff of Snow’s flock, the strength behind the duo of Charming and Swan. 

He worked through possible headlines for the next day. The Storybrooke Mirror had already led with a piece on the dark curse, which the clowns had slipped to him, followed the circus throughout their travels. 

Sidney wandered amongst the tents and watched as the performers mingled with the other circus folk who were driving in stakes to raise the big top. 

“No! This is too dangerous!” 

He smiled, where yelling came from stories usually followed. 

Sidney peeked into the small tent and saw Regina Mills throwing her arms up in the air. 

***

“Emma, this is just an act, Gold put it together there is always some danger in what we do.” 

Turning toward her Emma closed the ground between them quickly, “He wants me to throw knives at your body and for you to catch them.” 

Regina nodded, “Yes, and if you keep acting like a petulant child refusing to practice it will become more dangerous.” 

“These,” Emma held up carved wooden cut-outs of knives, “do not have the weight or the speed of a metal knife.” 

“So you want to use the knives?” Regina questioned turning toward the daggers and blades Killian had brought in. 

Emma growled in frustration, “You’re not listening to me, but you never do anymore.” 

Regina watched her pace back and forth in the tent like an agitated animal, “So this is about your feelings being hurt?”

“Who is The Hatter to you?” 

Turning away Regina rubbed at her temples, “He is a friend.” 

“Oh,” Emma snorted softly, “do friends escort you back to your hotel?” She stopped pacing, her eyes leveled at Regina daring her to answer. 

Regina held up her hand in warning, “I do not owe you an explanation for anything I chose to do in my life.” She quickly picked up a blade and tossed it into a wooden brace beside Emma’s head. Slowly she walked toward Emma as her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the blade she pulled it out of the brace, “Nor have you earned it.” 

Emma moved quickly, she flipped Regina against the brace and pressed their chests together, “Does everything have a price with you?”

“What are you implying Miss Swan?” 

Yanking the blade out of Regina’s hand Emma stepped away, “Nothing. I don’t know you. You’ve made it very clear I will never know you.” She walked three quick paces away before turning and launching the knife at Regina. It met the target and sunk into the brace right beside her cheek. 

“Let’s get to work.”


	6. The Queen is Dead

_**Storybrooke, Maine - June 11th, 1935**_  
The deluge of the band playing, “Stars and Stripes Forever” echoed through her ears as Emma heard a scream peal through the audience.

She looked at the knife in her hand weeping with blood and then back at the crowd before Emma was taken to the ground roughly and felt the metal grip her wrists. The snick sound was all too familiar and honestly something part of her missed hearing. 

“You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Regina Mills.” 

Cora Mills ran through the crowd still murmuring from what they had witnessed, “Sheriff Humbert, Sheriff!” 

Her lips turned up in anger as she turned to Emma, “You killed my daughter. You did this.” She kicked the sawdust into her eyes and her voice went lower, “All of you circus folks are freaks!” 

The Sheriff pulled roughly on Emma bringing her off the ground before planting her on her feet. “We’ll be at the station.” 

Mr. Gold stepped forward, his face ashen as he reached for the mayor’s arm, “Cora, Cora it was an accident. It was an accident just like Daniel.” 

He reached for her arm again as more of the performers entered the tent and surrounded Regina’s still form before David broke through and knelt near the fallen body. Cora ripped her arm away from Mr. Gold’s grasp as she pointed fingers at the group, sweeping back and forth as if accusing them all, “I knew this would happen. I knew it, this is why I tried to show her how dangerous you were. Horses and knives and flames and trapeze artists.” 

“Cora, she could recover from this--” 

David looked grim as he caught Mr. Gold’s eye. 

“She can, can she not David?” Mr. Gold questioned.

Snow ran into the tent with Storybrooke’s doctor close behind. 

He clucked his tongue before he dropped to his knees, “Mayor Mills you might want to tell the Sheriff that we’re five minutes away from the charges being raised to murder.” 

* * * 

The door to the station flew open as Cora Mills entered, skirts flowing around her. Emma took the moment before she reached the cell bars she was leaning on to step backward. 

“You. You killed my daughter.” Cora sneered as Mr. Gold pushed through the crowd outside to get into the room. 

His voice was soft, like coaxing a dangerous animal. “Cora, it was an accident. The knife Emma was supposed to be handling was spring-loaded so it wouldn’t harm Regina. There’s always a bit of chance with new acts.” 

He continued, “This is why we carry insurance. It’s why we try so hard to be careful, but a snake can happen.” 

“Oh, please,” Cora’s voice bit at him, “I put the snake there. We both know that boy was no good for her. She wouldn’t listen so I made her listen.” 

Mr. Gold straightened his posture and nodded, “Well it’s good that we finally have it out there, isn’t it dearie?” 

Blood rushed to Cora’s cheeks and she stepped even closer, her hot breath hitting him in the face. “You won’t get away with this.” Her lip curled up in snarl as she spun toward the gathered group, “None of you will. No court will take the word of a vengeful ex-fiance who stole away a grief stricken mother’s words.”

“See, here’s what going to happen.” Emma strode forward from the cell, swinging the door open as she pulled a wallet from under her jacket. The shield of the Federal Bureau of Investigation flashed and the crowd quieted as it edged in closer for the end of the final act. 

“You’re going to be arrested for counts of murder, arson, corruption, and tax evasion.” Emma sniffed before nodding, “Tax evasion is the one that always gets you though, crooks like you just haven’t figured out how to avoid death and taxes.” 

“I really have to thank Sidney as well for being such a lousy tail in Kansas City or I might never have been able to piece together everything. Mr. Gold, you were always great with the slight of hand, but really Mayor Mills.” Emma looked into the Sheriff’s office as the staccato tapping of high heels clicked on the tiled floor and a grin spread across her mouth. 

“Really, you should thank your daughter for finally getting you to tell the truth.” 

Emma could see the color draining from Cora’s face. The older woman wrung her hands together. 

“Regina?” Cora asked, a weak smile cracking across her face, “You’re alive?”

“Yes, mother, I am.” 

She strode across the pen, her small frame seeming to grow stronger as she approached her, “Nothing that a masterful sleight of hand and a pint of pig’s blood to really sell it.” 

“But how?” Cora asked in awed looking between Regina and a smug Mr. Gold. 

Emma took her place by Regina’s side, “Now, if we told you that Mayor Mills it wouldn’t be magic, would it?”

Sheriff Humbert clicked the cuffs around Cora’s wrists. 

She let out an exasperated breath, “Is that even necessary Sheriff? I am in the station.” 

“Just doing the job ma’am.” A smile almost peaked across his cheeks as he led her the ten feet to the jail cell recently occupied by Emma. 

The bars rolled shut with a satisfying clang as it locked behind Cora. The woman looked smaller as she shuffled toward the cot, a ratty blanket covering the stained mattress. She turned once more back to the gathered crowd and raised her chin in defiance. “I’ll beat this Emma Swan.” 

Hooking her thumbs into her pants pocket Emma rocked back and forth on her feet, “No, you won’t Mayor Mills.” She looked over her shoulder at the now dwindling gathering of Storybrooke citizens, “I have roughly 100 witnesses to your confession and you may have bought every judge from Storybrooke to Bangor, but I always get my guy.” 

She glanced at Regina before looking back at the cell, “Or gal in this case.” Emma waved toward the remaining rubberneckers, “Okay go home folks, all that is left now is paper work.” 

Mr. Gold nodded to her, his hair flopping forward before he gently pushed it back, “Good job with the switch Agent Swan, if I had a say you’d stay with the circus instead of going back to--” he paused before smirking, “well I guess it is a different type of big top, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Emma laughed softly, “the company is very dull. I’ll miss the card tricks, and thank you Mr. Gold.” 

His head dipped down in response. He edged toward Regina and dropped a kiss on her cheek before exiting the building. 

Regina smiled warmly at Emma, “It’s good to finally know the third option.” 

Emma shrugged, “I told you I’d tell you.” 

“You took long enough.” Regina complained, unable to stop the smile from widening.

* * * 

Regina opened the door and tugged Emma in behind her. 

Emma’s feet shuffled along the carpet in the Bed and Breakfast, “Is there a reason we are not at that giant house of yours?” 

Regina’s eyes raked over hers as the moonlight broke through the window. “Yes, that’s my mother’s house and I do not want to poison the well planned fantasies with what I want to do to you, with thoughts of her.” 

“Oh, really?” Emma asked coyly. 

She crossed her arms as Regina pulled on the waist of her pants to bring her closer, “Are we going to play parcheesi? I feel like you’d beat me at parcheesi.” 

Regina bit her lip as their body’s connected. Her eyes moved down to Emma’s mouth and then back up to her eyes, “No parcheesi.” 

“Huh, hearts? I’m not too good at hearts.” She tried to keep the smirk from working across her face. 

Regina’s breath felt hot against her ear, “Emma I said to you, not with you.” 

“Ah, I got it. Chess.” She snapped her fingers before wrapping her arms around Regina and finding the buttons along the back of her dress, slowly working them loose. 

“Chess?” 

Emma nodded, “Yeah, I plan on taking the queen.” 

The laugh was well worth it, filling the room with a husky sound as Regina focused back on Emma. “Well you have to kiss her first.” 

Dipping her head down Emma closed her eyes as she sighed into Regina’s lips, finding them as soft as she had dreamed of beside her in a hotel room in Kansas City. Her skin was just as warm and inviting as she had wondered it would be as Regina twirled a baton made of fire in Chicago. 

Emma pulled back and sighed, “I don’t want to kill the mood here, but is this the part where I mention why I was sad in Chicago?” 

“Emma, if this ruins my evening--” 

She rolled her eyes back and forth, “I have a kid, but he’s like a baby.” 

Regina’s eyes widened in shock and she started to pull away. 

“No, no, no, it’s not like that, not married, no Dad.” Emma groaned, “God, I-just why did I do this?” 

Regina looked at her flatly, “Do you love me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you love your child?” 

Emma nodded, “I do, I do.” 

“Okay.” Regina nodded surely.

“We’re going to talk about him in the morning. I’m not spooked. I’m not running. We’ll figure out the answer to--” Regina raised her eyebrows as she searched Emma’s eyes. 

She let out a breath, “Henry, my son’s name is Henry.” 

Regina chuckled to herself, “Henry was my father’s name.” She ran a hand through Emma’s hair and shook her head, “Why do you keep trying to bring other people into our bed?” 

Emma’s mouth hung opened dumbfounded. “I’m sorry I am just really terrible at this.” Her eyes widened in horror, “No, not this,” her arms clutched her closer, “this part with the kissing I’m great at that, it’s the full honesty I am not as good with.” 

“Okay,” Regina nodded once more. 

“Okay?”

Regina leaned closer her eyes flicking to Emma’s mouth and then back up to her eyes, “Okay, as in take my dress off, throw me on the bed and make me forget my name.” 

Emma smiled widely and laughed, “That I can do.”


	7. Epilogue: A Fine Romance

_**Storybrooke, Maine - May 8th, 1945** _

The radio crackled for a moment and there was a knock on the door. Regina stilled, the only time that someone came to the door of a soldier's house was to give news read from a prepared letter and hand you a different colored star banner. Otherwise the citizens of Storybrooke knew to walk right in and announce yourself.

She heard feet pitter patter down the staircase and Henry bellowed out loudly, "Mom! Door!"

Regina wiped her hands on her apron and rolled her shoulders backward putting on the face of a mythical Fire Queen who had lived through death once before.

"No, Henry, I've got it." she hurried to the door and got to it just in time before his small hand had wrapped around the knob and changed their lives.

She looked down at him with a smile, "Why don't you go out back and play for a moment. I'll have an apple tart ready soon."

His rosy cheeks accompanied a wide grin before he glomped off opening the screen door and letting it bang shut behind him. She would usually yell after him, but not today.

Regina fussed with her hair for a moment and turned the knob to see the back of a green military uniform and a slanted cap to the side. The hair was in a perfect bun and her breath caught for a moment, "Emma?"

"Well there you are, I thought I had the wrong house for a moment." Emma pulled off her hat as she turned toward 108 Mifflin Street as a solid weight hit her and arms wrapped around her neck tightly.

Regina buried her head into Emma's neck tears pricking at her eyes. "I thought you were a mirage."

A warm laugh rumbled through Emma and Regina took a deep breath as she kissed the side of Emma's face.

"No, I'm not a mirage. I'm here. I'm your oasis. I'm here forever." Emma pulled back and rested their foreheads together before dropping a kiss on Regina's mouth.

Regina pulled back laughing as tears shone in her eyes, "Your letters stopped coming and then when you knocked."  
"Oh," Emma slapped herself on the side of the head, "I am so sorry my love."

An arm pulled across Regina's stomach and she whispered, "Say that again."

"I'm so sorry." Emma reached for her hand and Regina swatted it away.

"No, not that part."

"Oh," a smile broke out on Emma's face and she leaned closer, "My love. I'm home."

Regina pulled Emma over the threshold and closed the door behind them. She gathered Emma in her arms and kissed her slowly, how she had dreamed of doing in the years she had been away at war. She told her stories as their lips moved of lonely nights, moments of joy, sadness, and relief. She finally broke the kiss off and smiled, "It finally is."

"It finally is what?" Emma asked bringing Regina into a firm embrace.

"It is finally home."

They waited a moment longer before Regina murmured lightly, "Let's go tell Henry now, together."

Emma tugged back on her arm she led her toward the back porch, "Do you think he'll remember me?"

"Oh, Emma he'll know you."

The back door banged open and Emma looked upon the sprout of a son who had grown like a weed. He looked at Regina for confirmation and on her nod of approval he launched himself at Emma. "Mom!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they made it through WWII. Yes, I have that entire story in my head. Yes, I hope to write it. You get good art and your brain keeps spinning and telling you stories.  
> Thank you for reading.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Smoke and Mirrors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866270) by [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/pseuds/mippippippi)




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